Pixie Dust Never Lies

Chapter 7

The rain hit the glass window pane in a disorganized, musical rhythm. It was a pleasant, soothing chaos, much like an orchestra warming up before a performance.

Emma sat in one of the comfy armchairs in my office, making herself at home, like she usually did. Her legs were draped over one arm of the chair, and she supported her upper body by resting her elbow on the other arm, and her customary red leather jacket was draped over the back of the chair; the picture of ease.

"Comfortable?" I asked, walking towards the little cabinet across from my desk.

"Yes, actually," she replied, smiling smugly. I shook my head and struggled with the heavy tray of drinks.

"What is all that?" Emma asked.

"It's my 'If someone important comes into the office' kit," I replied. "I'm always prepared for company." I wobbled a little when u got halfway to the coffee table.

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, lifting her torso a bit in concern.

"I've got it," I assured her. She settled back in the chair, looking more comfortable than ever. I finally made it to the coffee table and set the tray down as gently as I could. There was a small clinking sound when I set it down on the glass top. Emma sat up, intrigued with the variety of options.

"Take whatever you like," I told her. She debated for a moment, her face conflicted for a moment. Then she reached out and took a shorter bottle with subtle, intricate designs on the edges. Inside the bottle was an amber liquid, almost gold in the light. It almost looked like a normal drink, except it seemed to reflect the light a little more than any other drink.

"What is this?" Emma asked.

"Ambrosia," I replied. "Not actual ambrosia, mind you--that would kill you in an instant. It's sort of a mock-ambrosia for mortals."

She looked at it more closely. "What is ambrosia?"

"Essentially...the drink of the gods. It is said that the gods, like Zeus and Aphrodite, live off of real ambrosia. It's supposed to bring the drinker unimaginable pleasure and could fill the belly of a starving man. Then a couple thousand years ago, a group of wizards made their own version, and the recipe is what made the drink you've got in your hand." I nodded toward the bottle.

"Sweet," she said in admiration.

Before she could form the words, I said, "No."

"I figured."

"I'm saving that drink for a very special occasion," I explained. "Although it doesn't have quite the same effect as the real thing, it is still quite potent." Surprisingly, she didn't argue. She simply put the drink back on the tray and poured herself a different drink, this one without magical properties. I opted out; I wanted to be sober for what happened next.

"So, Emma...the reason why I asked you to meet me here..." I was shaking. Why was I so nervous?

"You wanted to talk to me?" Emma finished.

"Yes, I did." I took a deep breath, and the words started pouring out of my mouth. "What happened last night was new and exciting and strange...but it can't go any further. I have Robin and Roland, and you have Killian. You love him, I know you do; I can see it every time you look at him. Don't you realize how much this would kill him?" I looked down and saw Emma's hurt eyes just before she hung her head. But I couldn't stop the words that were flowing like a tidal wave from my mouth.

"It would affect not only you and me, but everyone else close to us: Robin, Roland, Hook, Henry...your parents. There's no way that this could work. I'm sorry." I finally managed to shut my mouth. If gotten my point across; there was no need to hurt her further.

She didn't move for a couple of seconds, enough that for a moment I started to worry that she would be frozen like that. Finally, she looked up, and I could see the tears welled up in her eyes. Then I watched the water spill over one of her emerald-green eyes, a single tear falling down her face. My heart fell.

"It's...it's okay," Emma said, standing slowly. "I understand. I won't bother you anymore." She started walking out quickly, leaving her jacket on the chair.

"Emma." I started to run after her, but almost twisted my ankle on my black heels. I kicked them off and ran to catch up with her. "Emma, wait!" I called out, running for the door. The weather had worsened since she'd arrived; the rain fell in sheets, and I could hear the distant roll of thunder. I hesitated for a moment in the doorway, put off by the rain. But then I saw Emma walking away in the storm. I exited the house, and was immediately greeted by cold and wet.

"What on earth are you doing? You can't go home in this storm!" She kept walking, pretending like she couldn't hear me. I walked faster, gaining up on her. "Come back inside until the storm blows over. You're going to kill yourself!"

Suddenly Emma stopped and spun around to face me. I had to stop in my tracks so that I didn't run into her.

"I don't buy it, Regina," Emma said. "Let's pretend for a second like there is no one else to worry about: just you and me. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you are not at all attracted to me, I will leave you alone; things can go back to the way they were." She stared at me, her emerald eyes determined and unwavering. It felt like she was staring straight into my soul, searching for the truth.

I wanted to say I wasn't attracted to her--I should have told her that--but as I looked at her, at the way the rain made her white shirt cling to her slim, muscular body; the way her wet hair fell in a messy tangle that just barely touched her breasts...I couldn't form the words.

"I..." I struggled, looking away. "I...don't know..."

I looked up at her. We made eye contact for just a second, but that second said it all. In two swift steps Emma closed the distance between us, grabbed me by my shoulders, and brought my lips to hers. I was caught off guard for a moment, but soon fell into her rhythm. We stood out there on he rain for about a minute, just feeling the moment, feeling each other. Her lips fit perfectly with mine, like two pieces of the same puzzle. I could taste her apple-flavored lip balm again, which only made me go crazier. Then she pushed me inside, never breaking contact with me. I heard the door shut behind us--must have been Emma. She led me to my office, reaching behind my back to the latch on my dress as she did so. She finally got it unhooked when we passed through the doorway. With one hand she pulled my face even closer to hers; with the other she slowly unzipped my dress until the zipper rested at my hip.

I returned the favor, taking the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. As soon as her face was exposed, I kissed her again. Then I reached down and unbuttoned her jeans. I unzipped them and pushed them over her butt until they fell around her ankles. Emma, in turn, reached up to my shoulders and gently pushed the sleeves of my dress until they fell in a heap on the floor.

Suddenly, she stopped kissing me. I opened my eyes, confused. She took a step back, looking at me from head to toe. It made me feel suddenly self-conscious, standing in the middle of my office in nothing but my black underwear.

"Regina, you're...beautiful," she said in a low voice. She smiled, and I blushed, looking away. A second later I felt her warm hand gently move my chin until I was looking straight into her eyes, and she kissed me again. I felt her arms grip my waist firmly, pulling me even closer to her. She led me to the couch and gently laid me down upon it.

I must have looked as nervous as I felt, because she looked at me in concern. "What's wrong, Regina?" she asked.

"It's just..." I answered, embarrassed, "I've never done this before."

She smiled, understanding. "Neither have I," she said. Then she leaned down and whispered in my ear, "But I'm willing to try." I shivered in excitement, which made her chuckle softly. She kissed me again, and I could feel her need. Then I felt her lips mov from my lips to my cheek to my neck to my collarbone. I shivered again, and moaned. But she continued her path, her kisses trailing down my chest and stomach.